


Little Man

by amorekay



Category: The Pacific - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Gen Fic, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-20
Updated: 2011-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-23 21:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorekay/pseuds/amorekay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of those little moments when everything should be okay, but it's not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Man

The waitress orders up a big meal when she finds out he’s a Marine, pushing away his stare and barreling into his space with hamburgers and fries and fucking milkshakes when all he wants is a cup of just-shitty coffee and two cigarettes. But he’d be an idiot to pass up a free meal, so when she sets down the last plate with a clink of satisfaction, he pulls the burger towards him and mechanically sets in. Food is a chore, a mechanical process, chew chew swallow, feel it going down the back of your throat and marvel at how much there is.

He throws it all up in an alleyway two blocks from his apartment. The dry rust in his throat after he’s down to bile feels more familiar, comforting, and something in his pounding heart body dims down to a low hum. An old man sitting out on a concrete stoop starts cussing something mean about drunks, and Shelton wipes his mouth, stares at him.

The old man doesn’t meet his gaze. He sets in on the stray dog limping up the way, a muttering about how this whole place has gone to the dogs, all these mongrels in the streets, and Shelton spits on the walk because it’s the only kind of response you can give shit like that. The dog pisses on the side of the stoop before the old man can shoo him away.

Shelton walks the rest of way home whistling, a tune he knows the words to but doesn’t want anyone else to know. When he gets to his door, there’s a slow whine behind him - and after the tense-tighten-panic spasm of his hand against his side he turns around and sees the dog. “Fuckin' hell,” he says, eyes wide.

He starts to laugh and he can’t stop.


End file.
